Truth or Dare with My... Mom? Ch. 01

"When did you get so ripped?" she asked, looking at me curiously. "And how did I not notice?"

I shrugged and put my shirt back on. "Mom glasses, I guess."

"Apparently," she sighed. "My little boy's grown up, that's for damn sure. And Ted isn't the only fucking moron around recently, because Gina was a retarded bitch to give that up for Skimbo, the Wonder Twink."

I burst out laughing while mom smiled and winked at me while taking a big pull from her beer.

Half an hour and three beers each in...

"I'm not kidding!" mom almost hissed while I was roaring with laughter. She was holding up her thumb and index finger, maybe just over four inches apart. "And while I don't fault him one way or another for having a tiny package, that isn't his fault, the fact that he'd strut around and look like he'd done me the world's biggest favour annoyed the shit out of me!"

"Did he ever get you off even once, mom?" I asked between laughs.

"Well, yes, I could get off when I fucked him, but that was mostly my hard work, no thanks to him," she griped. "He just kept pumping away like he was some kind of oil derrick, and I had to maneuver beneath him to make sure he hit certain spots, you know? The least he could've done was actively help."

"Did changing position help at all?" I queried. Mom didn't seem to mind answering technical questions like this, and if she asked them, I would honestly. I was enjoying this exchange of information.

She shrugged. "I mean, nothing was a guarantee, but some positions were easier to get myself off with than others. Doggie and reverse cowgirl were good for that. He just apparently didn't notice or didn't think he needed to do anything except pump mechanically. Boring."

"So why were you with him at all?" I queried.

Mom sighed. "He was another teacher working with me on a curriculum project, and fucking him kept him motivated to stick at it. We completed the project with flying colours and then I celebrated like crazy when he got his sideways promotion to another school."

I was laughing again. "S'okay, mom, I did the exact same thing with a science project and some girl in my group. She agreed to do her share of the work if I kept giving her orgasms."

"Tough life for you," mom teased, smirking. "Did she do anything for you, like at least blow you?"

"Nuh-uh," I said, shaking my head. "Not with those teeth. We called her Donna the Piranha for a reason."

Mom almost did another spit-take, bunching herself up on the couch and giggling, kicking her heels rapidly against the cushion of the chesterfield. She looked at me in mirth.

"Warn me when you're gonna do that, you little bugger," she snickered. "I don't wanna spew all over the chesterfield or my rug."

I shrugged. "Since I don't know what's gonna set you off, I'll just try to not talk while you're taking a drink, I guess. So are there any women on your grudge list, mom?"

"Oh, now my little boy wants to hear about mommy's lezzie action?" she teased, turning her torso to face me and resting her hand against her temple. She was clearly mellow and even buzzed after the three beers and the three mimosas earlier. She must not have thought about how she was sitting, because she had one knee cocked up and her foot on the cushion while her other leg was curled beneath her. If I dared to look down, I was getting a great view of her spare black panties. But there was no way she wouldn't notice me looking, so I willed myself to not glance down.

"It sounds funnier when you put it that way, admittedly," I said. "But I wasn't asking for details about your scissoring habits."

"Your loss," she said airily, taking another swig.

"I was just asking if there were any women out there who did my amazing mom wrong," I pointed out.

Mom sighed. "A few, maybe. One really pissed me off. We had a good sex thing going and then she went frigid bitch. Never found out why. She was really nasty to me after that."

"Sorry to hear it," I said honestly.

"It's okay, I got my revenge," mom replied.

"What, did you put itching powder in her tampons?" I asked, smirking.

"Ooh, gotta remember that one, but no," she said, giving me an evil smile. "I fucked her mom."

Now it was my turn to almost do a spit-take. I recovered and looked at her in shock. "Her mom? How the Hell old were you two?"

"Never you mind, young man," she said dismissively. "I'm nowhere near buzzed enough to tell you that. In any event, after she'd broken up with me and turned into a megabitch, she was coming home one day and saw me leaving her house with a very smug look on my face. She dashed in her front door and the whole neighbourhood heard the screaming match they had. I just kept walking."

"Mom, you are the mistress of cold revenge," I said, holding up my bottle to salute her. "Remind me to never get on your bad side, since you may steal my girlfriend."

"Based on what slags and bitches they're turning out to be, not bloody likely," she quipped, winking at me as she took another pull. I was laughing while she frowned, turning the bottle upside-down and giving it a bit of a shake. Not a drop came out, she'd drained it dry.

"Poo," she mumbled, setting the bottle aside. "I've got room for one more, so I..."

Mom paused in talking, looking down her body and frowning.

"Aaron," she said, looking at me again. "How long've I been sitting like this?"

I swallowed. "Like what?"

"Like this," she said, gesturing down at herself, still in her position from earlier. "Sitting here with my crotch on display to my son."

"I... don't rightly know," I said, sounding uncertain.

"Let's say for a moment that's true," she ventured in a quieter voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now this felt dangerous, and I had to be honest, but also careful. "Truth?"

She nodded levelly, her eyes never leaving mine as she leaned closer.

I took a breath. "I knew you were doin' it, and I willed myself to not look. But I was afraid that if I told you that you'd get super embarrassed and then we'd stop sitting here talking. I've been enjoying myself so much and didn't wanna ruin it. Looking down wasn't worth that."

Mom studied me for a moment and there was a sense of wonder in her eyes. "You're telling the truth, aren't you? I never even once saw you glancing down, and I would've noticed if you had."

She sat back and shrugged mildly. "Well, this is very comfy for me, so I have no intention yet of changing position just because my panties are on display. So go ahead and look as you please, just don't make it creepy by staring dumbly, okay?"

"Thanks, mom," I sighed, pulling at my shirt to air out my chest, since she'd had me sweating. "Y'had me scared there."

"I don't know whether I would've been embarrassed or not, but thank you, Aaron, for considering that aspect, it's strangely polite of you," she said, handing me a beer she wanted me to open. "And take off your shirt when you open this one."

I complied and mom giggled as my muscles flexed while I removed the cap from the bottle.

"Leave the shirt off," she instructed, taking the bottle from me. "After all, you have something to look at, why shouldn't I?"

"First, I went to the trouble of not looking," I pointed out. "Second, I'm already sitting here in my underwear, you know."

"Oh, that doesn't count," mom said dismissively, waving my assertion off. "Guys in boxers don't count. A sculpted chest does."

"If you say so, mom," I sighed, opening my own bottle while she continued snickering. Truth be told, I was happy for the shirt coming off, since I was warm, between the drinking and the nervous sweating I'd been doing. I was cooler already.

"And at least you're polite enough to not insist on something stupid like I should take something off since you already had to," mom sniffed. "That's a loser argument, reserved for dumb boys who can't get a woman out of her clothes otherwise."

"You're my mom and I love and respect you too much for that," I said readily, meaning it.

"Am I to understand you don't want to see your old mom in her underwear?" she teased, smirking again.

"I've seen you in a bikini, mom, which was at least as small as any bras and panties you wear, so what's the difference?" I reasoned, trying to sound dutiful. This was a very strange situation, mind.

"Fair, but there's something more intimate about seeing someone in their unmentionables, I figure," mom mused.

"Except for guys in their boxers," I reminded her, tilting the lip of my bottle toward her.

"Fiiiiine," she sighed before looking at me. "Would it make us even if I took my robe off?"

I was given pause by her query. "I... wasn't aware this needed addressing, mom. We're here to vent to one another. I don't need you to undress for me, no matter how gorgeous you a-"

I stopped talking for a moment, realizing what I was saying. I might not have been drunk, but three Creemores and three mimosas seemed to have removed the governor from my tongue, or at least relaxed it.

"Go on..." mom prompted, biting her lip and smirking.

I sighed, hanging my head for a moment. "C'mon, mom. All my friends think you're a total MILF, and for once, they're not wrong. Yes, I'd be an idiot to not at least objectively understand how hot you are. I swear I didn't look at your panties when you were sitting that way, but I was fighting it every damn second. For real."

Mom looked at me quietly, as if assessing me. It wasn't an unkind look, and finally she smiled warmly.

"I don't think I've heard a full-grown man give a better or more honest answer," she breathed, standing up now in front of the chesterfield. "You win, Aaron. Here you go..."

I gaped as mom undid the belt on her little scarlet robe and then shrugged the garment off. She stood in front of me now, clad only in her lacy black bra and the practically thong panties she'd been wearing. She had one knee slightly cocked in front of the other, and her hands on her hips, giving me a sultry look.

"Soooo..." she almost purred, still giving me a smirk. "Not bad for an old lady, hm?"

I was, quite literally, too stunned to get a hard-on. Which I probably should have been thankful for, had I been capable of higher brain functions at that moment.

"I know I said earlier that I didn't want you staring stupidly, but I guess it's okay right now," she lilted, pivoting her torso left and right a little big to give me slightly different views. My eyes somehow widened further as she slowly turned her back to me, showing off her tight ass. The material of her panties disappeared between her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder at me and winked. "Whaddya think, big boy?"

I swallowed loudly. "I hope you understand what I mean when I say this, but... I really wish you weren't my mother right now, mom."

Mom giggled and turned around to face me again, pleased with my response. She gave a little dance-jiggle of excitement, making her boobs bounce in the bra that could barely contain them. It seemed almost a size too small, so why had she even put that one on?

She grabbed her phone from the table beside the chesterfield and then almost collapsed down onto the cushion, stretching out and resting back on me. My eyes remained wide as her practically naked back pressed against my torso.

"Smile, baby," she called, giving the camera one of her dazzling smiles while she took a picture of us from above. She sat up a bit and then checked the picture eagerly. When she saw it, she frowned slightly.

"What's with that look?" she asked, holding her phone up and showing me the pic she'd taken. She looked great. I, on the other hand, looked shocked and maybe mildly panicked, like someone had just shoved razor weasels down my boxers. This hadn't been my intent, mind. "Am I that repulsive to be pressed up against?"

"Mom, no!" I protested instantly, shaking my head. "You just caught me off-guard. I was still trying to wrap my poor little brain around you standing there in your lingerie, and then alluva sudden we were taking a mostly nude selfie together. You may've been ready, but I wasn't. I'll... I'll do better for the next one."

"I'm holding you to that," she assured me, nodding. She picked up here beer and looked around. "Time for a new venue, I think. Let's move this party to another location."

"Uh, sure, sounds good," I agreed, standing up, thankful that I wasn't sporting a hard-on at the moment. "Lemme just get my shirt and-"

"Uh-uh," mom said, holding up a finger. "Leave it off. If I'm staying like this, you're staying as is too, pal."

"Oh, uh, okay," I said, shrugging. "I didn't know you were staying like that, but if you're comfortable..."

"I am, and I am," she confirmed with a nod. "Follow me, my son."

I did as instructed, walking behind her. Mom seemed to be putting extra wiggle in her walk, so I figured I was meant to be checking out her ass.

Which I did. Happily. And with no small amount of awe.

It was one great ass, and I knew girls my age who would be insanely jealous of it. I was pretty sure you could bounce a quarter off it if mom was lying down on her stomach.

"We're heading to the hot tub, so grab some more bubbly while I turn it on, will you, dear?" she called back to me while she opened the door to our back yard.

"Oh, uh... bubbly?" I asked rather dumbly, still staring at her ass.

"Champagne and hot tubs were made for each other, honey, trust me," she said, now standing in front of the hot tub that sat on our deck. She made a shooing motion at me with her hand. "One of my friends turned me on to it, and it's been an indulgence of mine for years. C'mon now. Scoot!"

I shook myself out of my stupor that she'd put me in and went to the chiller. I found another bottle of sparkling wine and grabbed two more champagne flutes. I could hear mom humming pleasantly to herself, followed by the low drone and rumble of the hot tub starting up. We'd had it up and running only recently, and I already wasn't using it as often as I could have. I know mom sometimes did when she was hosting a guest, so to speak.

"Ah, thank you, baby," she said to me cheerfully as she clambered into the tub and settled in. I guessed at this point that looking at her body in her underwear was fair game, since she was making no attempt to conceal herself with her posture.

"You're not getting into a bathing suit or bikini?" I asked, still dumb.

Mom made a face. "Why would I? This may be sexy lingerie, but it's not expensive. It washes just fine, so why would I get a whole different set of clothing wet? Not to mention having to take the time to change."

I shrugged. Sound logic to me. "I guess my boxers are good enough, then. Not really different from anything I'd wear getting in."

"Precisely," mom agreed. She was sitting so that the top of her breasts were visible, the cups of the shelf bra submerged. The only thing I could really see what the black straps going over her shoulders and the lacy border of the cups. And a lot of cleavage. "Now get in here and hand me some bubbly, please."

I clambered in and mom watched me intently, smirking. She raised her arms and rested them on the edge of the tub, lifting still more of her expansive cleavage into view. And she knew I could see it all. She didn't seem to mind if I looked, or even stared. I fumbled out opening the bubbly, pouring each of us a glass.

"Thank you, baby," she said softly as she hers from me. I sat down across from her, settling in. I had to admit, the churning hot water felt very nice. And if I happened to pop a boner, she wouldn't know.

I hoped.

"So," she began, after taking a sip of her fizzy beverage. "Where were we?"

I thought about that. "That's kinda subjective, mom. Where were we prior to what?"

She pondered that for a moment, her eyes roving and her head bobbling a little. It was amazing how cute she could be if I really paid attention. Finally, she answered. "Where were we before I realized I was showing off my gitch to you?"

I thought back. "I'd asked you how old you were when you got revenge on that girl by sexing up her mom, and you told me none of my business. I think that's where we left off."

"Ah, yes," she said nodding. "We were discussing my lezzie activity, right?"

"Indirectly, maybe," I allowed. "I'm just having a great time finding out about you."

"Bet you are," she said, smirking again. She pointed out me with her champagne flute. "Your turn. 'fess up to something."

"Like what?" I queried. "I told you, never done anything with another guy, so I can't match your lesbian antics."

Mom made a face. "Never done anything? Never stood in a corner and shown one another your pee-pees?"

I screwed up my face and shook my head. "Not that I remember, mom. For real."

"Wow, I thought all young guys did that," she mused. "Sorta like how all young girls compare boobs and practice kissing."

"Sorry to burst the bubble," I said simply, shrugging.

"Okay, lemme try again," she said. "Ummmmm... oh! Have you even been in a threesome or foursome?"

My eyes widened slightly. I can't believe my mom asked me that. "What is this, truth or dare?"

"If that's what it takes to get an answer out of you," she replied. "Either answer truthfully, or I'm gonna give you a dare."

I swallowed again. Looked like I owed her an answer. After a deep breath, I replied. "Yeah. I've done the threesome."

Mom actually seemed surprised. "Really? My little boy's been in a threesome?"

"Few of them, actually," I admitted, trying to not blush. Thankfully the water was hot, so I could hopefully pass it off as my skin reacting to the water. "I think... four of them? Yeah, four."

"Goodness," mom said, fanning herself for effect. "Did not expect that. Then again, turns out you're a hardbody who doesn't mind fucking his history teacher, so maybe I've got no business being surprised. Got any details you might wanna share?"

"Isn't that a different question and a different truth?" I asked.

Mom sighed. "Yeah, technically, but chances are we might get a bit shitfaced, Aaron, and then we might not even remember to ask the question. So the rule is, if we're answering a truth, we have to follow up with some sort of satisfactory explanation, okay?"

"Well, okay," I agreed uncertainly. "I'll try, but... what do you wanna know?"

"Just the basics," she said simply. "Where were you, who was involved..."

"Ah, well," I said, nodding and trying to answer her. "I was at a party for one of them. Me and two girls I met, we found a bathroom nobody seemed to be using and we kinda went at it."

Mom nodded. "Just the two of them concentrating on you, or were they also lezzing out?"

I chuckled, still unable to believe I was having this conversation with my own mother. "They were goin' to town on one another too. But we kept it pretty even, I like to think. It was a good time, for my first threesome. So, your turn, mom. Truth or dare?"

"Oh, well," mom breathed, blushing a little herself now. "I want a few more drinks in me before I accept any dares. So truth."

I was about to ask my question but she stopped me by pointing with her champagne glass. "And no copycat questions. You can't just ask me if I've ever had a threesome now. That's cheap. Make sure you try harder."

"Okay," I allowed, recalibrating. "Ummmmm... okay, what's the most number of people you've had sex with at once?"

Now mom actually blushed, furiously. "Oh, God," she mumbled, turning her head and looking down at the water. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I thought that was the game," I reasoned. "So either answer truthfully, or accept a dare."

Mom closed her eyes for some time before answering. "I... do you know about that sex club downtown?"

"Shangri-La? Yeah," I replied. "Never been to it, but I know of it. Always wondered."